Storm Bringer: Akairo
by ShadowMoonSedai
Summary: All it will take is one failure, one misstep in the wrong direction, and the storm that gathers on the edge of all consciousness will begin to rend the world apart.
1. Prologue

_This is an edit/rewrite of a story by a similar name. I decided that I missed this plot, but couldn't continue with that I had left it off with. So... here you go. Storm Bringer, redone._

Prologue

  
The bell above the door tinkled. The sound brought attentiveness to the what had been the previously uninterested eyes of the young woman behind the counter. She lifted her head as three men crushed together in the narrow doorway, letting in a wave of heat from the streets outside. Chestnut bangs fell over steel blue eyes that glittered dangerously at the new customers, but the men, all taller and bigger than the lanky, longhaired girl, took no notice of her. Their eyes flickered around the shop, taking in every antique that decorated the shelves as old as the pieces, and, not seeing what they wished to find, they finally moved to acknowledge her.   
"Can I… help you?" Her voice had an accent, but it was not local. There were twinges of a thousand different lands, mountains and rivers the men could only dream of seeing, but mostly, it seemed to bear the thick drawl of the rolling hills of France.   
"Are you Akairo Hiarashi?" inquired the shortest of the three, a man who stood inches still taller than the shopkeeper. She took a moment to study his face - round, soft, like a boy who thought he could act like a man, with deep set brown eyes and a bristle brush of black hair on his head. He was broad shouldered and intimidating in black pants and a black shirt with the sleeves torn off. The woman nodded shortly, an answer to his question, and his shoulders stiffened with resolved. "Hand over the jewel, Miss Hiarashi and you will stay unharmed." She raised a delicate eyebrow and pulled herself to her full height, letting the book close itself heavily on the desk.   
"What jewel?" she queried, her eyes wide and innocent. The smaller of the men, who had obviously shown himself to be their leader, took an angry step forward, his hands ham-sized fists at his sides.   
"Don't be a smartass, girl!" he snapped, his dark eyes narrowing. "Give it to us!" A curtain behind Akairo _swish_ed gently as it was pushed aside and now there were five in the room - Akairo and the men, and a small, black haired girl with devastatingly black eyes that took in the scene before her. She said something in a lilting language to Akairo, who answered back in the same tongue as she half turned to the girl, displaying her back - and her confidence- to the men, that told them, quite plainly, they were of no threat to her. The raven-haired girl said something with a raised eyebrow that brought a smirk to the face of the other. Akairo tossed her braid over her shoulder and walked around the desk, leaving her friend to man the desk.   
"I'm sorry, but I don't know what you could ever mean," said Akairo in the same accented English as before, as she gave a deep bow of apology. "Please, feel free to look around our shop," she continued, straightening with a sweep of her arm. The man, who had been so irately conversing with the woman before, now grinned wickedly and shared decidedly over delighted glances with his silent cohorts.   
"I'll look around alright," he growled, turning his gaze, now filled with fury, back on the braided girl before him, who was unfazed. "Find that jewel!" he ordered of his companions, who both nodded quickly and moved forward into the room. The one nearest Akairo moved to his direct left, where a row of dusty, delicate vases sat in the heavy sunlight that poured in from the outside row. He lifted one, a large cream vase decorated with gold edged swans swimming on swirls of blue, and as he lifted it, it brushed the sides of the vases near it, producing a tinkling sound that brought the immediate attention of the dark haired young woman behind the desk. Her dark eyes narrowed, but she leaned forward nonchalantly on the desk, resting her weight on her elbows.   
"I would not do that," she advised calmly, in an accent richer than Akairo's with the hills and pastures of a decadent countryside. The man holding the vase looked at her and his face contorted, as if her words made sense to one part of his mind, but were adamantly ignored by another. His eyes glanced between her shadowy black eyes, Akairo's steel blue, which were relentless on him, and the hard, harsh eyes of his leader, which promised more punishment than either girl could possibly deal out.   
"I… uh…" He stuttered, his glances becoming more furvitive , until he took a halting step backwards and let the vase fall from his hands. It fell through the air, to the unpolished wood floor, only to stop, less than an inch from its final destination. There was a collective change in the air - tension, from the three men, and disdain from Akairo. She turned slightly and rolled her eyes over her shoulder at the girl behind the desk, whose eyes now shimmered a brilliant cerulean blue.   
"I warned him," said the girl softly. "If you are going to cause trouble, then I will have to ask you to remove yourself from this establishment." The two men in the door backed up, their eyes wide and their skin pale as the vase continued to hover above the floor. They never saw the girl's eyes as they turned and ran, their mission completely forgotten, and nor did they notice the third member of their group who stumbled to catch up with them. The door smacked shut, cutting off the wave of heat from outside that had made the small shop stifling. Akairo bent and grabbed the vase with both her hands, picking it up and placing it back on its rightful spot on the shelf. When she turned, her friend was still leaning over the counter, only now she watched with eyes the color of solid darkness.   
"Not bad, but not a good idea either," scolded Akairo, placing both hands on her hips and making a face. "Danae, really, was that necessary?" Danae shrugged her shoulders, causing the sleeve of her shirt to fall further down her arm. She stood, pulling up the errant sleeve as she did so, then pausing to brush the curtain of her loose black curls back.  
"I gave them fair warning," she countered, leaning forward again. "Besides, they are gone, are they not? And we have much work to do. You know that this means, of course." Akairo heaved a sigh, but nodded. She walked to the counter, her long skirt making noise that it had not before, and when she stooped to reach around and under the surface, it rustled loudly, like a creature leaping from the bushes on prey formally unsuspecting. She pulled a large black messenger bag out and straightened, slipping it on to her shoulder as she did.   
"I need to run to the market," she stated flatly, opening the flap and peering inside her bag. "Danae, go home and pack. We'll pay a visit over to our beloved sister in the north. She'll enjoy that." Danae's brow wrinkled in deep thought and she tapped a fingernail against the hard wood of the desk.  
"Did she not say, the last time that we "paid" her a visit, that if she ever came up there again, she would skin us alive?" she wondered, looking to her friend for answers. Akairo grinned broadly and let the flap of her bag fall.  
"I think we'll be okay," she replied, gathering up her skirt in one hand. "I'll see you at home, Danae. Pack fast and pack light - we're leaving as soon as possible." Danae nodded, although her face still betrayed her misgivings about this trip, but Akairo seemed confident enough for the both of them. She all but bounced out of the shop, her heels making more noise on the floor than the skirt around her legs. As the door closed behind her, the bell chimed brightly, saying its salutations to its faithful guardian.  
It had no idea that it jingled a final goodbye. 


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

  
Duo Maxwell leaned back in his chair and put his feet on the desk. It was a nice desk, made of sturdy plywood that creaked under the weight of his well worn sneakers and was scuffed with months of being shifted around, everyday in a new corner, as its owner attempted to create as much space as possible in a place barely bigger than the desk itself. The chair that squeaked underneath, at least, was in a useable condition, and it was comfortable enough, considering he spent less time in that chair than he did in the office itself. Duo wasn't someone who could sit still for any given amount of time, and, well, with his job, he didn't really have the time to sit, period. _  
This is the life,_ he thought idly to himself, staring up at the flat, white ceiling that was decorated with a mired of pen dots, all invisible unless you were directly beneath. They looked like stars, and, indeed, there were a few that had been attempts at constellations. _Great job, _he continued to himself,_ no wars, the world's safe and best of all, I get to watch Wufei be bossed around by a woman. What more could a guy ask for?_ He closed his eyes and grinned. _Well, maybe a cup of coffee and- _  
"Maxwell, what _are_ you doing, besides slacking off? Again." Duo opened his eyes and sat up, letting his feet fall to the floor. His braid thumped against the back of the chair as he leaned onto the desk.   
"Wu-man, you ruin all my fun and relaxation," he replied, making a face. "What can I do for you?"  
"We're here to work, baka," answered Wufei, glaring sternly at the one behind the desk. "Kiro wants you in her office," he added, his gaze completely level. Wufei made no sign of being hurt by working for a woman. He had made his peace after complaining for a month straight, then actually getting to the job and discovering that, in no way, was Kiro a girly woman. She was a severe Taskmaster and didn't have a feminine bone in her body, despite being blonde and well built for a girl. She _did_ wear skirts, however they gave away nothing of the legs beneath. Duo guessed that she was full figured - he had no actual idea. And, since Kiro had made it crystalline clear that she disliked Duo a great deal, he had really no chance of finding out.   
"What does _she_ want?" inquired Duo, wrinkling his nose at the thought of facing his fierce little supervisor. As if drawn by some force, Kiro herself appeared in the door, well tailored pants hanging loose from her waist in waves of deep blue silk. The matching jacket, as there was _always_ a matching jacket with Kiro, had obviously been left somewhere, as she only wore a white sleeveless blouse with the pants.   
"_She_," she interjected sharply, "i.e. me, I'm assuming, wants you to get off your ass and pick a job," she said, her accent a very sophisticated English Lady, but there was nothing lady like other then that. Kiro was tomboy, through and through. "I've got three reports I want done by Saturday. You too, Chang. I've got work for your friends, Yuy and Barton, and has anyone seen Winner, or did he leave us?"   
"He went to investigate the possible Gundam sighting in Ireland," said Duo, standing from his chair. He was taller than Kiro, by at least a half foot, but she always made him feel much, much shorter. Then again, Kiro made everyone feel, feel much shorter. That was why she was the head of the company - absolute, inborn charisma and the attitude of a rapid Chihuahua.   
"_Who_ sent him on _that_?" she demanded, glaring so hard that her blue eyes lit with a raging fire. Duo felt the urge to shrink back, but quickly squished it, in favour of his dignity.   
"He, um, volunteered," he managed. "The case came through Hibari, so we assumed it was legit. If it wasn't-"   
"The fuck it wasn't!!" hollered the woman, throwing her hands up in the hair. "Oh, honestly, what the hell am I running? A bloody tabloid?! Somebody get him back here by tonight or I'm going to be surgically removing my Gucci from _someone's_ ass!" She shoved two file folders into Wufei's arms and stalked back to her office, her heels emphasizing the previous statement threateningly. They both watched her go, their eyes inadvertantly drawn to the rhythmic click clicking. Duo shook his head, and looked to the folders, finding a place to draw his attention away from his certain doom.   
"I'm so screwed," he murmured. "No way is Winner coming back from Ireland anytime in the next week, much less tonight. And knowing Kiro, she'd make me pay for the surgery." Wufei snickered, a most un-Wufei like sound that he had been making quite a bit as of late, especially when it came to Kiro and Duo's professional relationship. Duo grinned, but said nothing. "What'd we get?" he asked, changing the subject.   
"_You_ got a missing persons case and _I_ got an investigation of a weather phenomenon in Japan," answered Wufei. Duo accepted the folder and heaved a sigh.   
"I feel as if I'm being gypped with more work."   
"I don't really care, Maxwell." Wufei dropped the folder on Duo's desk and left. Duo sat down, leaned back and pulled the file into his lap. It was an average brown manila folder, the edges worn as if Duo wasn't the first person to have picked it up. There was no title on the tag line, just a single short line to the far left. Duo opened it and began leafing through the papers piled inside. Someone had done most of the research for him already.   
"Let's see," he said to himself aloud. "Akairo Hiarashi. Age: 18. Place of Birth: Tokyo, Japan. Employed: Hobbies and Antiques, New Orleans, Louisiana. Date missing: September 21, AC 199." Duo raised an eyebrow at that and glanced at the calendar on his desk, only to see that his guess was correct - it was October 21, a month to the date after Miss Hiarashi's disappearance. It was severely un-Kiro-like for him to get an assignment a month old, _and_ it already had a lot of research on her. If it was thing Kiro liked, it was for her reporters to do their own research. This was beginning to smell very funny to Duo. He pulled the photo from the paperclip and studied it. There didn't seem to be anything particular about Akairo Hiarashi that jumped out at him, except, that for a girl born in Tokyo, Japan, with a Japanese name no less, she didn't look very Japanese. Her hair was a curly, deep brown and she had large, blue eyes that were set in a pretty face straight out of a European fashion magazine. The photo looked like it was a candid shot, because her eyes were looking to something to her left 0 or maybe it _was_ from a fashion magazine and it was some kind of artistic shot. Duo had no idea, so he flipped the picture over, hoping to find some kind of date and source scrawled on the back. Instead, he was met with a untidy script that scrawled an ambiguous warning,   
  
  
**Be Careful. This is far more than what you may think. **

  
Duo frowned deeply, then turned the picture back over to stare at it. She had finely chiseled features that struck a note of familiarity in his memory, but what was so familiar, he couldn't comprehend. He slipped the picture back under the paper clip and closed the folder, then stood up so fast his chair fell over and into a wall. This was ridiculous - he needed more information on this case than just what was in the papers. Somehow, there was more going on here than Kiro was letting on. By the time he reached her office door, his resolve had hardened - he _was_ going to be _completely_ informed on this.  
But the sound of her voice stopped it. The door to her office stood ajar, and her voice came through, reassuring in its tone, but urgent in the rapid way she fell over the syllables of the rich language. Duo stopped, his hand only inches from the handle, and listened.   
"It's French." Duo's back went ramrod straight and he whirled around on his heel, his braid wrapping itself protectively around his neck.   
"Am I the _only_ one who says 'hi' anymore?!" he shouted, perhaps a little higher pitched than usual. The person beyond him only watched him with a level gaze, his vibrant green eyes as calm as a meadow on a windless day. "Geez!" breathed Duo, shaking his head and pulling his braid free. He let it flop back behind him. They stood together in the hallway, the two boys, one slightly small with auburn hair, the other taller, with pale brown hair that was arranged so that it covered one of his eyes, no matter where you were standing.   
"So… Trowa," tried Duo, still listening to Kiro talking rapidly, "do you know what she's saying?"   
"Some," shrugged Trowa, "But none of it is really important, just that she has everything covered." He raised his hands before Duo's mouth came open again and shook his head. "I have no idea what."   
"Damn," muttered Duo, snapping his fingers. He glanced back at the door and decided that it really wasn't worth his ass to interrupt Kiro, just yet. He could wait in the hallway a little longer. A need for conversation struck him. "What'd you get for a case, Trowa?"   
"The Hiarashi family ruby was stolen from the highest security bank in the colonies," answered Trowa. "The government agency assigned to the case has put out rumors that they have evidence it was an inside robbery, so I was planning to research the jewel and the bank this afternoon. You?" he added amiably.   
"A really weird missing persons," Duo answered, tapping the file with the tip of his finger. "Some girl named Akairo Hi-" He paused a moment, realization springing to his cheerful face, "-arashi. You know what, Barton, I think I'm gonna tag along with you." Trowa nodded and Duo looked to the door again. Kiro's voice was softer, but still in an language Duo couldn't understand. Now, another voice added the occasional comment, in French, a low, quiet tenor that was indistinguishable through the doors, even with one ajar. The braided one narrowed his eyes at the door, recognizing the voice even as his common sense told him he was being stupid.   
"When did Heero get back from his last assignment?" he inquired, taking a step towards the door. Trowa grabbed his arm above the elbow and pulled him back gently.   
"Heero failed his last assignment," he hissed quietly, his eyes suddenly lighting with a strange light. "He was supposed to bring someone in for an interview, but she was kidnapped. The woman Miss Kiro is talking to is the interviewee's roommate. She thinks Heero kidnapped her."   
"A little French my _ass_!" stated Duo indignantly. Kiro's voice stopped in mid sentence and both boys feel completely silent. "We should leave," said Duo, looking to the door. A shadow passed by the open space and Duo took a step backward. Trowa motioned down the hallway and Duo nodded silently. They left, one after the other, and, from inside the office, a well-manicured finger tapped a button marked "speaker"   
"Are you still there?" inquired a level female voice tinged with a English accent.   
"Oúi," came the answer.   
"Good," replied the voice. "Now we can talk." 


	3. Chapter 2

"Are you still there?" Kiro glanced up at Heero, who was sitting perfectly still in the large, leather chair, his back as straight as bored. His blue eyes watched her and gave no indication of what was going on in the mind behind them. He was a silent as he had been when he had walked into her office and sat down, while she talked with the anxious French girl on the phone.

"Oúi," answered the girl, her voice tighter than usual. "Kiro, I'm afraid to even call the police. There is no way in hell that Kai was taken by the three that tried to intimidate us. I will not give them that much credit for spine."

"Danae, we have to consider all options," said Kiro, pulling out the leather executive chair that hunkered against her cherry wood desk. She sat down, toeing her shoes off and tucking her stocking feet underneath her. Heero smirked at something and leaned back in the chair, the smirk hovering on his face. Kiro narrowed her blue eyes at him and frowned, but said nothing.

"Kiro, all we wanted was a normal life - between her family and mine, and all of the media, there was no escaping them, except for here. _And they found us!!_" Danae's voice hit a higher pitch and broke, almost as if she was attempting to control a sob. "What in the hell happened to the guard you were sending?!" Heero's smirk faded and his face became completely still, empty as an unpainted wall. Kiro looked up at him, but kept her face a schooled calm.

"There were complications, Danae," she said levelly, resting her elbows on the desk. She looked at the phone as if she was looking at Danae herself. "That is beyond the point right now. I need you to think for me, love. Has _anyone_ else strange visited you recently?"

"Visited?" repeated Danae, "visited, _non_. Although…" She was silent another moment and Kiro straightened in her chair. Heero leaned slightly forward in his own chair. "Kiro, I have Kai's cell phone and there are phone calls on here from a number I have never seen - and Kai was calling back. Do you want the number?"

"Tell me," agreed Kiro, pulling a perfectly sharpened pencil from the sleek black cup on her desk. Danae read off the numbers in careful, clipped English, and Kiro wrote them down in a large, loopy scrawl. She set tip of the pencil underneath the whole set when Danae was finished, underlining what was, by far, the best clue she had received since Akairo had gone missing.

"All of the other numbers are recognizable," continued Danae, her words accenting by a repetitive beeping in the background. "My cellular phone (beep), your office (beep), your home (beep) - Kai was calling you a lot." There was more than a hint of supposition in her voice, but Kiro managed to look innocent, even though Danae could not see her at all.

"We were talking about her interview," she said easily, but her eyes glanced at Heero when she said it. "Danae, I want you to do a few things for me - for one, pack up the shop." There came a squawk of protest, but Kiro continued through it. "No, Danae, listen to me. If obviously isn't safe for you down there. I'll get your contract extended until the end of next year - that should be long enough. I want you to come up here at the first chance you get. Hibari's roommate just moved out and she needs someone to keep her in line." Danae snorted and some clattered in the background.

"It would take the entire of the United army to keep that child in line," she remarked flatly. "All right, Kiro, I'll see you in a few days."

"Call me if there's any trouble!" Kiro ordered quickly, before the phone clicked. She heaved a sigh and rolled her eyes as she turned the speaker phone off. "I have no idea what do with that girl. She doesn't even remember, but she's still the same person."

"She'll remember," said Heero quietly. "Hibari has - that's why she took that sabbatical, right?" Kiro's eyes snapped to his and after a moment of blank shock, she scowled angrily, rising from her chair.

"I bring him here, to her, and she leaves before she even sees him," she muttered, pacing in front of the long plate glass window that started at the floor and rose straight to the ceiling. It dwarfed her tiny figure, but her pacing was long in stride and quick in pace. "Heero, I knew the why as soon as I remembered - I knew why I had remembered, who I had remembered, and what I was remembering for. It was only fate that all five of the Silver went to the same boarding school - we knew each other and I knew them when I knew me." Heero stood from his chair as her pacing slowed and she stopped to turn and face the outside world that spread before her. "The thing I remembered, first, though…" She trailed off as he stood behind her, a good head taller than she, but when he stepped closer, and wrapped his arms around her waist, it was as if they were perfectly matched. She lifted on of her hands and intertwined her fingers in his.

"I remembered her face," she said quietly. "I remembered watching… I remembered watching Gehshi die in her arms, because… because I had been so stupid and…" Her voice failed her on the last thought, a thin wavering of emotion marring her perfect accent. "Heero, I'm so sorry…" Heero stared only at the horizon, even as Kiro trembled in his arms, so close to tears brought on by memories years older than she herself was.

"I can only stay mad at you for so long," he said quietly, drawing her as close to him as he possibly could. A dry laugh escaped her lips as she tucked her head under his chin and turned her cheek against his neck. They stood in silence, for an endless amount of time, Heero watching the thin line of grey clouds that sat at the far reaches of his vision like a thread stretched across the sky, and Kiro existing in only the places where she was needed - the depths of her mind, where something hunted in the shadows of her psyche, and in Heero's arms, where she was his comfort as much as he was hers.

"You told her about me," he stated finally, marring the silence with his monotone words.

"She knew before I told her," came the subdued answer. "It was her suggestion, the whole thing. Now with everything that has happened… I think, ultimately, she's known all along." She lifted her head and turned so that she could look up at his face. "That is part of it, is it not? 'To know what may be and has been, and to know what will be again'." He nodded slowly, almost thoughtfully, as he continued to gaze at the threaded sky. Kiro watched his face for what she knew would never show and finally just shook her head. "I hope these ex-pilots are as good as you say they are," she said, letting her eyes follow his line of sight until they, too, rested on what lay beyond the tops of the building across the street. "Maxwell's already made one connection, and Barton already knows more than he's letting on - do you think that, maybe, he…"

"Hn," was the only reply, a noncommittal sound issued from deep within the throat of the ex-pilot. "If he does," he continued, "it will make this easier on all of us - him and Tsuyuno especially."

"If he doesn't, he will soon enough," stated Kiro flatly, with more than enough annoyance in her voice for Heero to consider her really pissed off. "Before the shit hits the fan, that's for fucking sure." Heero shook his and reached up with one of his hands to brush the curling tendrils of wheat blonde from the petite woman's neck. He let his lips fall to the exposed skin, a very chaste, very gentle motion that caused Kiro to turn around in his arms. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and searching - for what, Heero had no idea. He had lately been affectionate with her, because she was his and he cared about her, but never to this reaction, this blatant confusion on her face.

"Six months ago…" she started quietly, still searching. "Six months ago, you never would have even come close to considering doing something like that," she finished, narrowing her eyes at him. He said nothing again, but this time, he released her and reached up to cup her face in his hands. Her hair fell over his fingers, tickling the edges of his skin in such a way it was almost funny, but when he kissed her, he was a serious as he had once been. She let him kiss her, but was tentative in returning the romantic motion. Something in the tightness of her shoulders held her back, even she overcame the worst of her uncertainty and reached one hand up to brush his cheek.

"Six months ago," he whispered, somewhere in the long moment that he held her and kissed her, "six months ago, there was less of me and more of the other. Do you want him back, now, with all that's being laid before us?" She pressed her forehead into his shoulder and said nothing. She had no idea.


	4. Chapter 3

Duo had never liked the library. Why in the world would you want to spend any of your own time with out-of-date books when there were technological resources that were updated _constantly_? Computers were sanitary, regulated, not half as heavy, and, besides the point, dust made Duo sneeze. Of course, by the time he found a book worth looking through, his nose was running and his eyes itched like nobody's business. He tossed it down on the table and sneezed again, to make damn sure that Trowa knew that he was suffering. Trowa didn't even glance up at him from the lamented news-pages in front of him. Two pages were set off to the side, while a meticulous stack of others were piled in front of him. The pages were the same grey as they had been the day they were printed, but Trowa handled them carefully. He stopped on one page and shifted it to see it in a better light. He held it out to Duo.

"Don't get anything on my case, but that's the girl you're looking for right?" Duo sniffled and took the page, all while aiming a red-eyed glare at his friend. He held the page at an angle, so that the glare of the white fluorescent lights didn't blot out the picture. It was her, all right, the Japanese-born, European-looking beauty. The picture didn't capture the blue of her eyes, or the copper undertones of her hair, since it was a flat black and white picture. But it was her - her hair was curly, and she was frowning hard, at something directly off camera. There was another woman in the picture, one whose hair was dark enough to be black in real life, but her eyes were an indiscriminate grey that could have translated into any color, even the same blue as Miss Akairo's. She was leaning over the shorter girl's shoulder, smiling brightly for the cameras and, if Duo had been able to breathe, he would have lost the ability again. Akairo had the look of a fashion model, but the other was simply beautiful. Duo whistled appreciatively.

"'At the grand opening of their new shop, 'Satin Past', Akairo Hiarashi and Danae Tenoe, both age 18, were excited to have what Danae called a "magnifique" crowd'. Wow. Where the hell was I when this happened?" Trowa shrugged nonchalantly as he pulled the other two pages back from their pile and separated them.

"Check the date," he replied, not looking up. Duo's eyes scanned to the top of the page and suddenly, he was frowning deeply.

"Oh, yeah," he said flatly, tossing the page onto the reject pile. Trowa saved it as Duo stretched his arms above his head. "I'm gonna search the other newspapers for the same day. Have fun with that vile _book_." He said the word with disgust, than sneezed hard enough to plaster his bangs to his forehead. Scoffing, and scowling, Duo fought his bangs aside and stalked back to the newspaper reference desk. Trowa resisted the urge to either laugh or roll his eyes. Instead, he returned his attention to the article he had put aside. He ran his finger under the title line, then stopped. The library was silent now, without even a murmur of voices or the whisper of turning pages. Trowa glanced up - the study area around him was empty, an abyss surround by towers of manuscripts, most older than he himself was, soundless witnesses to his present, though temporary, loneliness. He shook his head, and leaned forward on one of his elbows, resting his head on his hand. He closed his eyes and heaved a sigh. Sleep had been fleeting lately and now, even with the task of researching the jewel in front of him, the silence seemed almost like the silence of his apartment at night, the silence that had been so comforting, yet not enough. Every time he closed his eyes and slipped into sleep-

__

She was there again. He knew it was a she, because the dim, unflickering light that emanated from an unknown source lit up pale shadows along smooth curves. She was shrouded in the darkness that swarmed where the light could not reach. Her face was hidden in it, but something inside of him told him that from the gloom, eyes the color of a coming night stared at him. He couldn't see them, but he could feel them, cutting in past his very skin and invading whatever crevice they could find.

I would…_ came a whisper, something that was of the darkness itself. It reverberated around him, coming from every place but the woman directly in front of him._

I would have

_saved you…_

saved you for the very last,

but

I need you

_need you, Eiyo_

need you now

before he wins

_again._

_The shadows began to pulse and something deep inside of him shied away from them. That which had kept him awake all these nights before, it said, was not this which stood before him. The pulse became stronger, quicker, until it was a dull, even shimmer that bit at the shadows until they had cleared away from her face, the dark lines caressing the edges of her chin, cheeks, mouth, and nose as they reluctantly gave up their hold. He was rooted to whatever spot he stood on, if he was even standing, because when the shadows were gone and it was truly her eyes he looked into, it was as if all of the breath had been taken from his lungs. He was paralyzed, trapped, and the fear in his body made every muscle tight. She took a step forward, her hair a solid curtain of auburn curls that twisted in an endless wave down her back to brush her hips. Everything about her was grey, save for her eyes and her hair, and when she moved, she was absolutely silent. Every step brought her closer, closer to him, but she held him in her gaze, locked against his will. She stepped up to him and he was dully aware of how close she was, her toes up against his, her breath a gentle whisper. She wore an air that smelled like spring, a warm air of renewal and rebirth, and her eyes were like the vibrant storm clouds of an April shower. He could almost see them gathering in the deep blue irises, the clouds of this storm, and when she touched him, her fingers were cold, the last vestiges of winter in a storm made to bring warmth. She mouthed something, but the sound was lost, and then, without warning, her mouth was on his, her lips the fulfillment of the promise of the end of winter's cold. Something passed over his skin, the pressure of the storm building, and somewhere in his mind, it crashed down, breaking with all the force of raging thunder. It began to rain, but the droplets were not water. Voices, images, a flood and tidal wave of painfully solid feelings that ravaged him. She disappeared, the one who had brought this storm, and he fell into the unending darkness around him, held tightly in the grasp of what he did not know._

Duo shifted the pile of laminated newspapers in his arms and hummed the next few bars of the melody that was running its course across the surface of his mind. He had hit upon the idea of finding a record of his missing person's birth and boy, had _that_ been a smart idea. There was much, much more going on in the Hiarashi family than he would have guessed and the article he had found was proof of that. Ms. Akairo had a brother, a twin brother, who had been kidnapped the day after they were born. No one knew who, but it was implied that a family bodyguard had kidnapped him. _This_ made everything more interesting.

"Tro, you'll never even _guess_ what I found out," he said excitedly as he struggled through a narrow set of bookshelves. He made a small noise of irritation when a thin tome that was sticking out decided to dig itself into his shoulder. The book fell to the floor and he stepped over it gingerly, clutching the slippery papers that threatened to slide from his grip. "Sonuva- stupid lament... Trowa, I could use your help, if you're not too tied up in your reading! Trowa?" Duo stepped around a bookcase and almost tripped on another book that lay on the floor. The laminated papers slid from his grip, like sand from his fingers, and fell heavily to the carpet in an unorganized mess. Duo scowled at them and their pile, but it was a short lived look. One piece slid off entirely, and skittered across the floor to bump into the last thing Duo would have expected. He swore, loud enough to bring the attention of every person in the library, and ran to the arm that lay sprawled on the floor. It was attached to Trowa, confirming Duo's inner fear, and the skin that ran across it was as flush as the skin on his face. Duo touched his arm, once, and felt a jolt race up his arm, as the skin on his fingertips burned hot. He jerked his hand away and cradled it against his chest, rubbing away the numbing tingle.

"Is he breathing?" inquired a calm voice, making Duo jump. He lifted his head as she knelt down, her short black hair falling just to her chin. She laid two fingers to the side of the fallen boy's neck and frowned deeply. "_Sheisse_. It _is_ you." She took in a deep breath and raised a pair of almond shaped black eyes to meet Duo's. "I'll call an ambulance. Do you have a cell phone?" Duo stared at her with blank confusion, than nodded slowly. "Good," she stated, nodding firmly. "Call an ambulance. He needs to get to a hospital, and fast."


End file.
